


Hold on Tight

by kristsune



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: 4+1 fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Swearing, almost bed sharing, almost forgot, but kind of?, but they held hands with intent, honestly they are so very soft, im calling it a win with these two, not quite, so soft they didnt even kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: 4 times Carter grabs onto Barnes' hand, and 1 time Barnes grabs Carter's.
Relationships: Commander Barnes/Howard Carter (Rusty Quill Gaming)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49





	Hold on Tight

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this was supposed to be a 5+1 but Barnes got impatient, so i cut it down one. 
> 
> Yes, yes I know, still on my carnes and barter bullshit, but what can i say? I love these two so much.
> 
> ps, shout out to Craux who helped me with some of the fun formatting <3

1.

“Quick, back here!” Carter whispered harshly as he grabbed Barnes’ hand to pull him flat against the wall, deep in shadow. They were attempting to escape from a contingent of lads and/or blokes after nicking some important documents from their boss - some rich twat - who had some very useful information that Wilde desperately wanted to get his hands on. 

Barnes realized that Carter had yet to release his hand, and turned his head just enough to get a look at him. Which was actually more difficult than he expected; Carter managed to completely disappear into the shadow in a way that Barnes never could. Maybe by holding his hand Carter was helping him blend in better. Barnes knew a bit about magic, but not a whole lot about rogues, who knew what Carter was truly capable of. He certainly found ways to surprise Barnes around every corner with some new hidden talent. 

As they stood there, waiting for the way to clear, Barnes took the time to really take in Carter’s hand, since he had the time, and it was currently _ right there  _ for him to do so. It was more rough than Barnes expected, while still being softer than his own. Smaller more specific calluses built from a lifetime of archeology, and then newer ones layered over those from knife throwing, lock picking, and scaling any available vertical surface. His fingers were long, and thin and fit so nicely around his own. Barnes found that he rather enjoyed holding Carter’s hand more than he thought he would. 

Apparently Carter’s rogue senses were too good for the mooks, keeping them hidden until the way out was clear. He gently squeezed Barnes’ hand, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Ready?”

Barnes felt a small smile tug at his lips, “Yeah.” He was a little disappointed when Carter let go of his hand, but smiled to himself at the memory of it for quite some time afterwards. 

2.

The second time Carter grabbed Barnes’ hand, was when he almost fell off the roof of a five storey building. It wasn’t  _ entirely _ his fault, he had been following Carter, but managed to find the one loose tile on the angled roof sending him sliding, but just before he went careening off the edge, he jerked to a stop as Carter snagged both of his hands. 

It took a little finagling, but Carter eventually got Barnes back to his feet. They stood there quietly, listening for anyone coming to check what the ruckus was about; Carter still holding one of his hands, and Barnes’ hand resting on Carter’s chest, trying to maintain his balance.

After a few minutes, and no obvious pursuit, Barnes let out a soft sigh of relief, and realized he was still pressed against Carter. He removed his hand, but couldn’t bring himself to step back. Not only because he was now wary of the stability of this rooftop, but because it was… nice being this close to Carter. His hand was still so warm in his own, looking down at him with an expression that Barnes couldn’t quite parse, but it probably had something to do with Barnes almost mucking up their entire operation. 

“T-thanks… for catching me.” 

“Of course. Couldn’t have you falling off the roof and giving up the game.” Carter winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “I-I’m just glad you’re okay. Thought I was going to lose you for a second there.” Carter’s hand squeezed his own briefly before letting go. 

“I wouldn’t even be fit as shark bait if it wasn’t for you.” 

Carter’s lips twitched, but Barnes couldn’t tell if it was intended to be a smile or a frown. Before he could ask if Carter what that was about, he leaned in and gave Barnes a quick hug before turning to continue on. Barnes followed after him, being sure to step Carter’s exact footsteps, but almost wishing Carter had continued to hold his hand, just in case.

3.

The third time Carter grabbed his hand, was to bandage it after Barnes had gotten a nasty slice in it. They were out on a mission, and Barnes refused to use one of their ever dwindling healing potions on something so minor, especially when they were going to see Zolf again the next day, who would be able to heal him with no problem. 

So, instead, they were left with a roll of bandages, clean cloth, and a bottle of strong alcohol that had been tucked into the bottom of Carter’s bag. 

Carter held out the bottle, “I’m sorry, this is gonna hurt.”

“It’s okay, I can take it; besides I… I trust you.”

Carter looked up at him with the biggest, rounded eyes, before nodding and buckling down, “I’ll take care of you.”

Barnes managed to not shout when Carter poured the, what must have been hundred proof alcohol with how bad it hurt, but it had been a near thing. Carter then took the cloth, and cleaned the wound as best he could under the circumstances. 

As Carter worked, Barnes took the time to watch his hands as he did. It was a good distraction from the pain. The way his long, deft fingers moved, how gentle the hand cupping the back of his own was, how tender each touch was along his skin. It was almost mesmerizing. Carter was obviously used to using those skilled hands for a variety of things, which apparently included bandaging a stray knife wound.

Carter gently swiped his thumb along Barnes’ inner wrist as he finished. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”

Barnes attempted to answer, but found he had to clear his throat first, “N-no. It’s.. good. Thank you… Howard.”

Those big round eyes of Carter’s were back, and Barnes found his heart clench a little at the sight of them. Something about them telling Barnes that he wasn’t called Howard often, and even then, it was rarely with thanks.

Cart-Howard’s hands were still holding his injured one, and Barnes couldn’t help but think that maybe the pain - and the stiffness that would follow even after a healing from Zolf - would be worth it, to have had this moment with him. 

4.

The next time Howard grabbed his hand, Barnes hadn’t even been aware of it. He had been in the midst of a nightmare, drowning, falling, clawing to get back, but he couldn’t swim, couldn’t get back.

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Dark. 

**Dark.**

**Dark.**

Barnes felt pressure on his chest, like he was being pushed further into the dark depths of the ocean, the sky, the v a s t n o t h i n g n e s s, and he flailed, attempting to grab onto anything he could. 

“Barnes, Barnes! It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Howard. You’re okay,  _ Joshua _ , you’re okay. It was just a nightmare. You’re here with me. In Japan.” Barnes gasped as his eyes flew open when Howard grabbed onto his flailing arms to hold him still, to keep him from hurting himself.

Barnes was breathing deeply and heavily, like he had just held his breath while running a marathon, and suddenly remembered he could actually breathe again. He was soaked with sweat, and his face wet with tears. But none of that mattered to Howard, who was holding his hand firmly, tethering him to this moment, in their room. 

Barnes was suddenly very glad, yet again, that they decided to share a room at the Inn. They had been forced to share one back in Cairo due to limited space at the old al-Tahan place with the sheer number of people staying there, helping with the fight against… everything. Turned out, they both enjoyed close quarters with each other more than either of them expected. A comfort knowing someone you could trust was there with you in the room, willing to watch your back when needed. Barnes felt safe with Howard there, and he knew Howard felt the same.

So when they insinuated themselves at the Inn in Japan, Barnes and Howard found a suitable room big enough for two single beds, and all their kit. Wilde had given them a strange look when they informed him (Howard had wanted to ask permission, but Barnes insisted that they didn’t need to, there were plenty of rooms and they could choose which they wanted, whether they were sharing was not Wilde’s decision) but after sharing a long look with Zolf, he just nodded in response. 

So rather than having to deal with a debilitating, disorienting nightmare on his own - that could sometimes take hours to recover from - Howard was there, talking quietly, holding one of his hands, and rubbing along Barnes’ arm with the other. He eventually got his breathing under control, matching Howard’s steady even breaths. 

“Thank you.” Barnes could hear how quiet, and raw his voice sounded, but Howard ignored it, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. 

Howard gave his hand a squeeze, “Did you want me to stay?” 

Barnes looked down at the small frame of the single bed, “Not sure if we’ll both fit.” Neither of them were terribly large men, but Howard was tall and lanky, and needed the full bed for himself just to fit. 

“Don’t you worry about that.” The small smile turned into a full one as Howard got up and moved the few things between their beds out of the way before shoving his so it was right up against Barnes’. “There we go. Now I’ll be right nearby if you need anything.” 

Barnes lay back down, turning to his side to face Howard who was getting comfortable, curling up into his usual ball facing him. “Try and get some sleep. I’ll be here. Promise.”

Barnes could already feel his eyelids drooping, safe in the comfort of Howard’s watchful gaze. Before he dropped off, he wished he had reached out to Howard in some way, but the thought slipped away as his consciousness did, and thought about it no more. 

+1

Barnes and Howard were sat side by side in their room, both on Barnes’ bed, leaning against the wall. Barnes was currently reading one of Zolf’s borrowed Campbell books, and Howard was fussing around with his lockpicks attempting to open a practice lock Wilde had given him that he’d need to get undone for an upcoming mission. It had been giving him trouble, but not because it was good, but because it was  _ bad _ . It was such a piece of junk, it didn’t function properly, and therefore difficult to get to pop open. 

“How am I supposed to get this stupid thing open if my lockpicks won’t work properly because this is an absolute piece of shit lock that doesn’t function like it’s _ supposed to, _ and just backslides every fucking time. Just… gotta… if I do this maybe it’ll work this time…” Howard muttered commentary to himself, which generally helped him think, which Barnes thought was adorable. 

_ Oh _ , well then.

Barnes realized, it wasn’t just that he thought Howard was adorable. That was only the tip of the very deep iceberg. Howard was a very attractive man, tall and thin, but not unmuscular. He had that wonderful swoop of hair, and though Barnes had never been a mustache man, there was something about Howard’s that was so unique, and suited him so perfectly that Barnes couldn’t even imagine him without it. 

But it wasn’t only his looks that Barnes enjoyed, but he cared about the man who was  _ Howard Carter _ . He was an extremely skilled rogue, whose knife throwing skills were only surpassed by one other person Barnes had ever met. He had never failed to pick a lock since Barnes had met him, and Howard could hide in plain sight in ways that were unfathomable to him. Not to mention he had the ability to nick alcohol from Wilde’s personal stache, which he still hadn’t caught onto. 

But then of course, there were the most important things about Howard. How excited and enthusiastic he was about archeology; how his eyes lit up when he was allowed to gush about his favorite finds and discoveries. How caring Howard was, even if he wasn’t always the best at showing it, at least to the others, but Barnes could see it, experience it. Then there was his smile, his laugh, completely uninhibited, just... enjoying what he enjoyed. 

But one of the more meaningful things that stuck out to Barnes was Howard’s  _ ability _ to make him laugh. He had never encountered anyone who could so consistently get him to smile, chuckle, or laugh outright. It felt  _ good _ to laugh, and to have someone so close to him, that he trusted, and could pull that reaction out of him like no other.

Barnes looked over at Howard, whose forehead was wrinkled in concentration, before his whole face lit up, smile bright as the sun, “Ah ha! Got it! The fucker.” 

Barnes felt an overwhelming, newly realized, surge of love towards Howard, and wanted to tell him, but Barnes had never been very good with words, especially ones even remotely involved with emotions. But he knew he had to do  _ something _ . Which was when he realized Howard had tossed down his tools after he successfully picked the lock, so Barnes reached out and gently grabbed hold of his hand, twining their fingers together. Howard looked over to Barnes with surprise, mixed with hope.

“I knew you could do it.” Barnes wasn’t sure how much of what he felt made it through in those six words, but with how Howard’s expression turned soft, and happy, and squeezed Barnes’ hand in return, he figured at least some of it made it through. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to stop by and visit me over on tumblr or on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/Kristsune)


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